The Guardian from London, Greater London, England • 41

The Guardian Friday April 12 1996 CD of the week: Richard Thompson you? me? us? (Capitol) listener feel distinctly uncomfortable. Is he writing about himself? Is he just a distanced narrator? Whichever, the subject doesn't sound like a very pleasant chap. There he is, on Cold Kisses, in your room, going through your stuff, digging in the backs of drawers or, in Ail The Magic Need, catchily vowing "I'm going to do the business oh Even the matey-ness of Put It There Pal carries a hint of menace. If anything, you? me? us? represents a regression for Thompson. One wonders what disaster may have befallen his private life since the last album.

Perhaps it is better not to ask. The figure of the troubled poet-troubadour crying into his beer in the corner of some slummy saloon bar may well be one that Thompson aspires to. But then unrequited love has prompted some of the best music and this is no exception. If you haven't already been bitten by the Thompson bug, this is as good a place to start as any. Dan Glaister minor label obscurity to recent adqration and adulation.

His London dates on the last two tours were at the Palladium and the Royal Festival Hall, no less. The songs, however, remain largely the same. At first listening, the new set, a double CD of which the first half (Voltage Enhanced) is electric, the second (Nude) acoustic, sounds dully familiar. It comprises a set of 19 songs, strong on melody and guitar twiddling, with Thompson droning on, as is his wont, about love and loss. Well-crafted, meticulously executed, they can leave you cold and wishing for something a little different.

Listen a second time, however, and, the songs' hooks get in your brain. By the third listening, you will be swearing that this is the best pop album and one of the most moving pieces of music you've listened to since, well, since the last Thompson outing. you? me? us? opens with the edgy Razor Dance, a typical rattling Thompson rocker and the only track presented In both acoustic and electric forms. Other Thompson regulars are there: ballads, screeching guitar solos, mandolins, and his strong, angst-laden vocals. There are a few new imports, too: an organ lends Hide It Away a soul feel, while a string section pops up on Bank Vault In Heaven.

As may be expected, the production by Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake is taut, as is the musicianship from Thompson regulars Jim Kelther and Pete Thomas on drums, Danny Thompson on bass, and others. The tunes would be enough on their own. Thompson has a great ear for melody, and the familiarity of many of the numbers may have more to do with their instant memorability. But there's much more to it than that. Like much of his previous work, this set investigates the troublesome business of relationships.

And here is where many of the problems start. In the same way that you want Thompson to stop talking and get on with the music when he performs in concert, his lyrical preoccupations can make the E15.99 MOTHER year, another album, another tour all grist to the catalogue for the indefatigable Richard Thompson. Last year saw the introspective man in the beret embark oh a lengthy tour with a stripped down band. This came six months after a lengthy tour with, a full band to promote a CD release, which itself came only months after the issue of a three-CD retrospective. Will it never end? Apparently not, judging by this new double CD.

Good news for Thompson's fans, then, and indeed for anyone with the remotest interest in that other Briipop, far removed from the PR-manipulated posturings of the iaddish boys. Thompson's career is without parallel. Frontman with seminal folk rockers Fairport Convention, he took his finger but of his ear and left the band to pursue a solo career which has gone from early success to This cd releases Indispensable Excellent Good Mediocre Appalling Ocean Colour Scene Moseley Shoals (MCA) 13.99 THE few who remember this Birmingham outfit in their 1989 "baggy" incarnation wouldn't recognise them now. The Cream-esque blues guitar on Riverboat Song and the Stones-circa-'65 feel of 40 Past Mid night are only the most obvious signs of a complete change of direction. suits them better than psychedelia did; the terrific guitarist, Steve Cradock, now gets plenty of chance to demonstrate his trainee-Clapton agility, and singer Simon Fowler blueses it up with panache.

The obstacle between them and greatness is the tune-free-ness of many songs, particularly the slowies. Still, golden boys Noel Gallagher and Paul Weller love them, so how can they miss? (CS) The Geto Boys The Resurrection (Rap-a-Lot) 14.99 THE next time Snoop Dogg brags about their gangsta exploits, he should consider the Geto Boys' Bushwick Bill, who once invited his girlfriend to shoot him in the eye. He lived to rap again, and sounds amazingly unscathed on this album. Too bad so much of it consists of uninventive g-funk and autopilot.